


If I May [Discontinued]

by yalina (rqyh)



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: (but there's also more than that), (im too lazy to change it), Arranged Marriage, Cheating, Diaspora, F/F, F/M, Fabricated Historical Fiction, M/M, Multi, Nobleman and Commoner Dynamic, Progressive Society, Rich and Poor Dynamic, and dealing with reality, and distorted perspectives, because it is set with an old-timey aesthetic, diversity, dowoon is a little shit, i posted this on twt and some ppl liked it, it actually reads pretentious, it probably is, living in a fantasy, so im posting it here too!!, the words are very nosebleed, there are plot twists, this fic tackles the dilemma between, those three tags are literally the plot, you'll know it when you get there, younghyun is an actual baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22397104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/yalina
Summary: In a country filled with immigrant families who have assimilated into a diversified cultural hotpot, Dowoon Yoon, heir of one of the richest families in the neighborhood, is to be wed to Jian Lee, son of the Yoon family's closest business partner, as well as their closest friend.Dowoon had never really minded the marriage, as he thought it was his duty in order to strengthen the two families' bond as well as provide ease for the generations to come.But when he spots their raven-haired, fox-eyed, and mouse-like new gardener, Dowoon starts to think that maybe the arranged marriage is perhaps the worst decision in the world.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K/Yoon Dowoon
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As of 12/22/2020, this story has been discontinued. Original pseud was raikaya (rqyh).

DOWOON WAS WALKING down the open halls of the manor and listening to the words of his betrothed, something about the state of his family's business. It was something of a bore to Dowoon, who at that moment wanted nothing more than to go back into his chambers and read a few books, or perhaps study up on the trends of the moving market; it was his duty to help the family as the heir, after all. But there was nothing for him to say or do about his lack of interest to whatever his fiance was doing, because to say or do about it would be utter disrespect on his part. After all, their fathers were close-knit friends; how could he sever a relationship so strong that it had lasted years? So Dowoon stayed silent about it and did nothing about it, in hopes of keeping the relationship intact.

“—the way I see it,” Jian was saying, hands gesturing as they walked alongside the gardens of the open halls, “the McLeans are starting to realize how inferior they are to us, running their mouths and trying to spread rumors about the family business—as if anyone would even think that such rumors could be true. Their persistence and determination are really something to admire—if the cowardice that precedes it was something admirable in the first place—but if I may be so bold, I daresay it will all lead to nothing.”

Dowoon nodded his head as he listened, keeping his eyes on the ceramic floor as he did. For the time that he had known him, Dowoon discovered that Jian was a man of confidence, taking pride in his work and the legacy of his family. He was the type to fight for the honor of the Lee family name, defending them whenever someone so much as doubted them. In turn, that lead to his tendency to look down on anyone who didn't live up to his standards—more so the standards of a Lee. But Dowoon didn't mind it; he found that there was nothing to mind, really, about Jian. 

“Well, the Lees have been a very strong presence in this town, ever since they moved here from China all those years ago,” Dowoon said, as politely as his indifference would let him. He knew many about matters concerning the Lee family, as his father would often boast about them on the dinner table. “It would be of no surprise if the McLeans were the first to go bankrupt, with all that they are doing. Your family is too remarkable for something as minor as that.”

Jian let a smile pull up his face, face softening to a more gentle approach. He momentarily stopped in his tracks to face Dowoon fully.

“It would soon become _our_ family,” he said, giving him a gentle smile on his face, “the moment you and I are to be wed. And from that day on we shall be sharing such fortunes and _mis_ fortunes together, as the bridge connecting your family and mine.”

Dowoon returned Jian's smile with one of his own, thinking it a very sweet statement for someone he felt no attachments with, save for the connection of their fathers. It was no secret to anyone of the way Jian felt about Dowoon; he was the one who requested his parents for Dowoon to be his fiance, after all. And during the days of his courtship and the days after their engagement, he hid none of the love he had for him and had, at one instance, even professed to Dowoon that he was his _true_ love, his _only_ love, and one whom he cannot feel anything except love from the bottom of his heart.

So Dowoon felt it was his obligation to agree to the marriage, as he neither resented it nor favored it. Jian was a great man from a well-off family; furthermore the Lees and the Yoons had been close-knit since both families moved from their respective countries. The marriage would bring nothing but happiness, as one party was neutral and the other much inclined. There was no reason for him to say no when saying yes would bring so many possibilities, so what other answer could he give?

Jian stayed staring at Dowoon as they stood by each other, the warmth of the sunlight providing the cherry to a kind day as it slipped through the distant pillars of the open hall. Stayed staring as a thought went through his mind, one that Dowoon immediately saw pass through.

“If,” Jian started, “I may…”

And he faltered in his sentence, giving Dowoon a shy smile and a look with a hidden message. But Dowoon can decipher it easily, having known Jian for too long.

He returned his shy smile with a relaxed one. “It is alright,” he said. “You may.”

And slowly, Jian leaned in, and Dowoon watched as his eyes fell to a close, a hand coming up to rest on Dowoon's cheek, a pair of lips falling upon another, pressing onto them softly, as if they were afraid that they would break.

When Dowoon listened to love stories and tales of romance and fate and all that which connects two people together, true love's kiss had always been the highlight of it, the one that breaks the spell and undos the curse. It was what the story had been building up to, and what would ultimately become its conclusion.

Dowoon had imagined that one's first kiss would be magical, for the exact reason that it was a Kiss. It didn't matter to him who did it, because he always assumed it would be special no matter what.

But for every time that Jian kissed him—on the cheek, on the forehead, on the lips—there was never an instance of magic anywhere, not a drop of true love in the witch's cauldron. It made Dowoon realize that kisses were not at all that magical, and that not everyone was allowed to have the Happily Ever After those tales promised. It made Dowoon realize that such things were meant to remain in one's fantasy, to never be truly realized in the real world. And if one were to look for it, why—

They may find that they find nothing.

But Dowoon was alright with this. He neither minded it nor desired it, and if one were to weigh the scales, his decision to betrothe himself to one whom his heart did not beat for was the better one. For he felt no need to look for true love, as true love had yet to come for him and perhaps—had never planned to come at all.

But the world was tricky like that, making you think one thing and then presenting another. What you thought had been would turn out to be another, and what you thought would never be was only starting to become.

And so when Dowoon glanced to his left, wondering when the kiss would end, he discovered that all he thought _wasn’t_ now already _was_.

For there _he_ was, standing in the middle of the courtyard, tending to the gardens, and holding onto a watering can so tight it was as if it were his lifeline.

A man almost the same height as him, with hair as black as a raven’s and eyes as sharp as fox’s. With a build built strong like a lion, and a posture as humble as a mouse.

A man who was staring straight at him, with watercolor red seeping into his skin. With the most vibrant blush Dowoon had ever seen, as if what that man has been seeing was the most shocking thing in the world.

And the moment Jian pulled away was the moment that man noticed Dowoon looking at him, and he jumped and bowed down and hastily watered the flowers before running away. Running away so quickly it was like Dowoon never saw him. But he would remember that face. He would remember it as he etched it in the corners of his mind.

“My love?” Dowoon turned to look at Jian, who had spoken. There was a concerned furrow in between his eyebrows. “Is something the matter?”

Dowoon paused a little in his response, looking at his betrothed with all the unbotheredness in the world. He found nothing but a little dusting on his cheeks, a drop of red food coloring mixed into white dough. Hardly there. Hardly anywhere.

“Nothing is the matter,” Dowoon said. “I am perfectly fine.”

“But you were staring somewhere. What were you looking at?”

At that, he opened his mouth.

“Just flowers. Their beauty can be really distracting.”

Jian nodded in sympathy, starting to talk about the different flowers to be found in his manor, and placed a hand on the small of his back, continuing on their way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my dudes. it is i. ruqayyah. back again with a new au that i aM NOT SURE I SHOULD BE POSTING CONSIDERING THE POOPLOAD OF OTHER AUS I HAVENT FINISHED but here we are. pls forgive me. i swear i am really writing for briwoon its just sO hARD HUHUHUHU OTL. writer's block has been coming for me for three months now OTL
> 
> anyway, here is a not-so-new au for briwoon that i have come up with, filled with tons of ocs, tons of diversity, and is basically just me playing with the idea of an old-timey aesthetic and then splash on it some nobleman-commoner dynamic, how fun amiryt.
> 
> anyway, just to explain the world that theyre in: it's a fictional world set in the time of something like anne of green gables, heidi, etc. in which many people from different countries fled to in order to escape certain things like war, poverty, and others. because of the different people coming from different countries, the different cultures had also assimilated into one another; some retain their original culture, some cultures had combined, and some people had assimilated into a different culture altogether, such as the Yoon and Lee family, a Korean family and a Lee family assimilating into the aesthetic of a Western culture, but also retaining the values and way of living one would expect from their respective cultures.
> 
> some families that will come up in this story have retained their original culture, and im hoping to have them pop up every now and then just to show the elements and feature of this world i had come up with. its sort of like a commentary, sort of like a "what if", sort of just something made for fun. either way, it's a really interesting thing to make, and hopefully i can continue this soon enough.
> 
> i'm not really sure when the next time would be that i would continue, well, ANY of my works because i've been so busy, and i'm starting to feel the pressures of being an adult, and trying to get out of my fantasies and start living in the real world, you know, have something concrete and un-floaty like fandom stuff, because honestly? to invest your time and effort into something like this really DOES require both courage and dedication, and as much as i love briwoon and love writing, i also need to invest time in my real-life responsibilities and, you know, get a job. tl;dr: you probably won't see me as much as you used to, because i'm no longer just a student, i'm already turning into a proper adult, and i need to prioritize things in the real world, and also i hardly have any free time anymore.
> 
> anyways, thank you all for reading this small thing of mine, and who knows! maybe in the future, if i could get my heart back into writing, i could crank up as many updates as i used to, at a pace you'd expect from a youth. (i'm still eighteen, which i know is like, still a baby, but the more days i live, the more it feels like i'm fifty with a pair of teen kids and a dog, so i really dont understand how so many of my peers are just so full of passion and youth, idk maybe it's the jadedness talking)
> 
> anyway, thank you all for taking the time to read this, and have a great day ^^
> 
> twitter: [@raikayyylmao](https://twitter.com/raikayyylmao)  
> curiouscat: [@raikayyylmao](https://curiouscat.me/raikayyylmao)  
> hellopoetry: [@ruqiruqi](https://hellopoetry.com/ruqiruqi/)


	2. Chapter 2

HE FOUND OUT his name was Younghyun from one of the maids he called in from the hallway, asking about the newcomer he had assumed to be a new member of the staff (judging from how he was watering the flowers from before), and how was it that he hadn’t known about the addition. 

He was apparently the son of the head gardener, Mr Kwanghyun Kang, who was one of the first people to become members of staff in the Yoon household, during the time of Dowoon’s grandfather. Head Gardener Kang had fallen ill due to his growing age as he was a man in his mid-sixties, and it was his son who volunteered to replace him, despite his father’s reservations.

It was not clear why Younghyun’s father was against him working as a gardener in the manor, as told by the maid who had been blushing since the moment Dowoon asked about him, but apparently it was evident both to her and the staff that Younghyun was a hard worker, able to take the extra mile if it meant creating the best output for his task. He was sometimes even seen doing the jobs of the other servants, such as sweeping the rooms, feeding the horses, and offering to help in the kitchen. It seemed that he was a bit of an odd one; where one normally wishes to be away from work, Younghyun welcomes and oftentimes even asks for it, not minding the extra labor. It was a peculiar thing to connect to someone, especially as Dowoon had never heard of anyone who loved to work, and so he found himself pressing his pen onto his chin, thinking for a while.

He eventually asked, “Why was it that I was not made aware of Mr Younghyun’s addition to the staff?” turning to look at the maid who was in a humble posture.

“I am not sure, Sir Dowoon,” replied the maid, nervously fiddling with her fingers. “Sir Eijiro (Sir Eijiro was the house steward) merely introduced him to us as the new gardener replacing his father. He said that Sir Dohwan himself had been the one to approve of him.”

“My father?” Dowoon asked, furrowing his eyebrows. _But he normally lets me know of anything concerning the family and the household. For what reason would he not mention to me this?_

“Yes, Sir Dowoon.” The maid nodded. “He said that he was more than qualified for any task given to him, and that he wouldn’t be a bother at all. And well, I suppose that is true…”

Dowoon stared at the way the maid faltered in her sentence, a tiny smile on her face as her eyes cast down, as if she were recalling a few memories. 

“He is well liked, I see,” he eventually said, and the maid looked up in alarm, face blushing fully.

“W-well, h-he surely is not _un_ likeable, S-Sir Dowoon,” she stuttered. “He works very hard, um, has lots of skills—”

“Including the skill of a pretty face, I assume?”

The maid failed to utter a single comprehensible word.

Dowoon let out a hum and turned back to his desk and the book settled upon it, tapping his pen against his chin yet again. Curious how this Mr Younghyun seemed to have garnered the positive opinions of just the staff alone—and apparently their fancy, as well, if this maid was any indication. In Dowoon’s case it was mere curiosity, which was only fed by this new knowledge he was obtaining. At last he turned back to the maid, who jumped at his sharp gesture.

“And where is Mr Kang now,” he said, “if you recall anything of what you last saw him do?”

“I believe he was tending to the stables, Sir Dowoon,” the maid said. “He had just finished his tasks at the gardens in the west wing.”

“I see. Thank you.” Dowoon nodded curtly. “You may leave.”

The maid excused herself and closed the door behind her, leaving Dowoon to stare at the engravings for a few minutes. 

Then, when Dowoon decided it was long enough, he closed his book, grabbed his coat, and left his room, headed in the direction of the stables.

The stables were located at quite a bit of distance from the manor, in a place where usually only the servants went to unless the horses were needed for some sort of activity. Dowoon had never been to the stables himself as his parents thought it unnecessary to provide him the knowledge of taking care of horses or grooming them; to them it was enough that he learned horseback riding and let the servants take care of the rest. 

Such a thing was important to members of high social class, and the Yoons were no exception. Commoner jobs such as cooking, doing the laundry, cleaning the household, and tending to the garden and whatnot were unfit to be done by a Yoon, for Yoons were meant for refined tasks such as decisions in business, horseback riding, fencing and learning etiquette. Lower-class jobs were an embarrassment; his father would argue that was why servants existed in the first place. For they were meant for the nitty-gritties in life, and people of his stature were meant for higher things, for _specialized_ things, and how embarrassing would it be to find a Yoon associating himself with a commoner, much less the lifestyle of one?

But Dowoon wouldn’t be himself if he weren’t a little bit daring, and though oftentimes he was found to be level-headed and calm, he was impulsive enough to make hasty decisions for the mere purpose of gratifying his curiosity. There was a reason why he was wearing a _simply_ -made coat, after all; he had bought it quite some time before for the very purpose of disguising his identity should he plan on doing anything his father or the steward would hate to catch him do. And right now, it seemed that he was finally executing such a plan.

Curiosity lead the way to the stables, and when Dowoon finally peeked inside to see what was there, he found a Stopping Spell suddenly cast on him, finding al that he was looking for.

It was Younghyun—as his memory made him recognize—with his raven hair and fox eyes, currently stroking the nose of one of the horses and looking as if he was lost in his thoughts, eyes cast down at nothing. With his bottom lip pushed down in a sort of pout and a calm expression on his face, it was a serene image painted before Dowoon in light colors, making him mesmerized for more than just a moment and making want nothing more than to stare forever.

Then Younghyun suddenly slapped both palms against his own face and suddenly forever was over.

“Ugh, why can’t I get those images out of my mind?”

Younghyun pressed his face against the nose of the brown horse—who seemed not at all bothered by the close contact, much to Dowoon’s surprise—and groaned in displeasure, closing his eyes shut.

“It was the most embarrassing thing in my life, Delilah; I swear I'd do anything to be rid of it,” he complained to the steed, looking like nothing else could devastate him at the moment. “Imagine: me, a lowly gardener, tending to the gardens as I had been instructed, only to be _dumbstruck_ the moment I see the lord of the house's son sharing a k-kiss w-with a-another man! What else could be as mortifying, Delilah? What else could paint me the most idiotic fool in the world than this?”

Dowoon kept as Younghyun lamented to himself, curiosity begging for him to listen more.

“And what's worse: Sir Dowoon himself had caught me _staring_ as he shared such an intimate moment with that man. He must think me a fool! A buffoon! And oh, I would not blame him, for I really am both those things:

“A commoner who for all his years of living has yet to know what feeling a kiss brings to one's lips. And to see two people—two _men_ share it, why, I didn't know what to think. It was so new, and different, and not at all anything I'm used to. And how flustered it makes me to even think of it; oh, how I wish to be rid of all of it!”

But eventually, Younghyun faltered in the way he stroked the horse's nose, by that time already finished with pressing his face against its hide. Dowoon watched as his eyes cast down, movements slowing. Mind filling up with a thousand thoughts. Daydreaming.

“Still,” he said, voice soft now, like a whisper, “how sweet of a kiss that was, like the touch of a feather to one's lips. I'm sure their hearts were fluttering. I'm sure that was a special moment for them. Sure, even though I've yet to feel it for myself.

“Do you think, Delilah, that one day I could share such a kiss with someone as well? Do you think that I—that I, of all people—could ever meet someone who would hold me just like that, and love me just like that, and be with me, in whatever way we would?”

“I should think it not impossible—” and at that Younghyun whipped his head— “for fate can be very curious. Very curious, indeed.”

“Sir Dowoon!” Younghyun exclaimed. “I apologize—I hadn't know you were there!”

“Clearly,” Dowoon snarked, making his way inside the stables. He found it to be rather clean and well-maintained—though nothing less should be expected from a Yoon-owned establishment, even if it is a place like this. “Is it often that you gossip about your employers with the horses in this stable, or was this just a rare coincidence?”

Younghyun blushed bright red at the question, and Dowoon was reminded of that time with the courtyard.

“I-I am sorry, Sir Dowoon. I hadn't meant to gossip about you,” he said, making himself smaller with every step Dowoon took towards him. “It was just that—um—seeing you—um—doing—um—with that man—um—um—”

“It made you quite flustered?” Dowoon guessed, and Younghyun nodded, embarrassed.

“I-I had never seen anyone share a kiss before, much less one shared between two men. I-I had heard it was possible, and I promise I do not find it at all odd, or strange, or peculiar, but as I am not used to it...”

Dowoon watched as Younghyun continued to fiddle with his fingers, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and keeping his head down low. Though his voice was deep, he kept it soft and seemed to find it difficult to look Dowoon in the eye. Though he stood the same height as Dowoon, he seemed shorter, and he felt smaller, though that was probably because it was what Younghyun made himself to be.

“Though you are timid, you seem to be quite talkative.” And Younghyun looked up at that. “Isn’t that right, Mr Kang?”

“You know my name, Sir?” He looked genuinely surprised at that.

“Of course, I do. I have been asking around about you, wondering which servant of mine was the one with enough audacity to stare. You are a very curious man, Mr Kang. Very, very curious.”

Dowoon took a step closer to Younghyun's space, and they found themselves only a mere centimeter away from each other. The former with his eyes staring straight at Younghyun, and the latter with his eyes wide just as they were back then, face watercoloring like paint on a white canvas.

“And for that,” Dowoon said, keeping his voice down to a whisper, “you have made _me_ very curious. Very curious, indeed.”

Younghyun hitched a breath, and Dowoon moved closer, eyes falling down—

_Munch. Munch. Munch._

Dowoon froze, feeling something _wet_ and _moving_ doing something to his _hair_.

“Mr Kang,” he said, feeling his jaw to be rigid, “what is happening on my head right now?”

“It—it seems Delilah has thought your hair to be a patch of hay, Sir.”

“And what is that wet thing dripping down my face?”

“It. It's saliva, Sir. Horse saliva.”

“ _Get it off, get it off, get it off, get it, get it off—_ ”

Younghyun hastily moved to get Delilah off of Dowoon as the latter continued spouting panicked remarks, feeling himself to be as rigid as a statue yet as vibrative as a train engine.

“Oh, this is why I was never allowed to be here in the first place, all these mangy beasts so disgusting and revolting it's like walking inside the sewers of the city—oh, why did I not listen to my parents’ _word—_ ”

Younghyun took out a piece of (clean) cloth from his pocket and started wiping Dowoon's head—

“—and what would happen if it turned out that I have an infection and have to be bedridden for days? The business would fall apart without me. My parents would die of loneliness. My sister would be cackling in her manor in the city and laugh at me for dying of _horse substance—_ ”

And suddenly, as if another Stopping Spell had been cast, the sound of laughter paused Dowoon in his tirade, making him look up in surprise.

Younghyun, in the middle of laughter, in the middle of cleaning the mess on Dowoon's head, with both hands holding him, and him so close, and Dowoon mesmerized yet again, so curiously often so.

“Horse saliva in your hair is not the end of the world, Sir,” he laughed, eyes almost crinkling shut. “You should be honored—that means Delilah has taken a liking to you, too.”

_Too_ , Dowoon echoed in his mind, wondering which of them he was attributing that.

“There,” Younghyun said, removing his hands and cloth. “Good as new.”

He smiled at him, still with patches of pink on his cheeks, and Dowoon continued staring straight at him, a thousand thoughts in his mind.

“May I ask you one question?” he said, earning a look of inquiry in Younghyun's eyes.

“Of course, Sir. What is it?”

“Do you see yourself kissing a man— _specifically_ , a man—if ever you do?”

Younghyun blinked at Dowoon for a moment, looking as if he were wondering what could ever cause such a question to occur. But he answered anyway, because he was his servant and he his employer.

“Well, I have never thought about it before, Sir, as such a notion seems rather impossible for someone like me, but if ever it would happen—and if it were to happen with a man—then perhaps I wouldn't mind it, if it were with the right one.”

And Dowoon let a smile pull up his face, watching as Younghyun looked taken aback at the sight of it, as if he never expected such a thing to occur.

“Good,” he said, still smiling. “That was all I came here for.”

And Dowoon moved past him, walking out of the stables, and finding it satisfying to see that neither his father nor Steward Eijiro was there to catch him or the mess that was his hair.

But not as satisfying as the look on Younghyun's face, and the red ink blotting onto the paper of his skin, the way his lips parted in surprise at Dowoon's words, possibly realizing whatever it was that he was implying.

Curiosity seemed to be a very good thing, Dowoon had found. And if that were so, then he supposed that there was no harm in entertaining it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized how embarrassingly written this is hahahahaha pls dont come for me
> 
> briwoon in this story be like
> 
> younghyun: [lamenting about his embarrassing moments to a horse]  
> dowoon: shall i hear more or shall i speak at this
> 
> dowoon: so  
> dowoon: are you gay
> 
> younghyun: delilah did you know that two beings of the male species can connect through each other's mouth covers like what the heck delilah who knew it was possible to have two pieces of anything come together like how two characters from dragon ball do the fusion thing and connect their fingers together who knew

**Author's Note:**

> [carrd](https://rqyh.carrd.co/) for updates and info!!


End file.
